Cowgirl, Unexpectedly. Vicki Tharp

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      Hank and I had never met up with the rest of the crew. After fixing the fence, we had returned to the ranch to notify Dale about the theft. Dale had then called the sheriff, who had taken our statement, told Dale he would investigate, but from his tone of voice, I didn’t think the man expected to find the missing cattle.

      In his camp chair, Dale swallowed a hefty swig of his beer. “Sheriff Tate said nobody else is missing stock in the area. Too early to tell if we’re the first in what is going to be a string of thefts or if we’re being targeted specifically.”

      I had plopped my aching body down on the ground with one of the logs against my back. Dale and his wife, Lottie, were on my right. Santos and Alby perched on the end of my log to my left. Across the fire from me, Jenna lay curled around Dink, with Quinn and his guitar on the log on one side of her, Hank on the log on the other.

      “Why would someone target your ranch?” I asked Dale.

      Link answered. He’d been slowly pacing the edge of the group, clearly too agitated to sit down. “Who says they are?” Link’s tone was accusatory and carried enough heat that it had Hank sitting up straighter.

      “Hey, now,” Hank growled at Link.

      Stopping mid-stride, Link locked on to Hank’s stare. “Who does she think she is?” Then he turned the heat back on me. “Cattle rustling is nothing new, missy. Happens all the time. It doesn’t mean we have a target painted on our back.”

      Hank jumped to his feet.

      “Enough.” Dale stood. “Sit down, Hank.”

      Dale kissed his wife on the cheek and handed her his half-empty beer. “Link, let me help you with night check.”

      Link crossed his arms over his chest, chewing on bitter, unsaid words as he waited for Dale to accompany him to the barn. I hadn’t known Dale long, but I already knew he wasn’t the type of man to dress down his foreman publicly, but there was no doubt by Dale’s tone that Link would get one.

      Awkward silence remained after they’d left. Quinn lightly fingered the strings on his guitar; the coals hissed as Alby flicked the remaining drops of his beer onto the fire.

      “Whatcha do to piss ‘em off?” Quinn asked. A toothpick dangled at the corner of his mouth.

      Jenna slapped him playfully on the leg and laughed. “That’s not very nice.”

      “Wish I knew,” I said, to no one in particular. “He hasn’t liked me from day one.”

      “Don’t take it personally,” Lottie chimed him. I loved her voice. It was smooth and sweet like butter blended with honey. A small woman, what she lacked in stature I could already tell she made up for with a quick mind and a mulish stubbornness. Probably served her well. “Link’s been going through a rough patch these last few months. Then with all the trouble on the ranch—he takes it all to heart. He grew up here. This place is as much his as mine.”

      Alby stood and stretched, tossing his empty into a nearby trash can. “You can make excuses all ya want, Miss Lottie, but he’s just plain got it in for her.”

      Lottie went to protest, but Hank cut her off. “Time you boys called it a night. You too, Jenna.”

      She tried to give him the “you’re not the boss of me” stink eye, but Hank stared her down. Hank wasn’t the foreman, but age alone gave him seniority.

      When she went to lift Dink, Hank said, “I’ll bring him up in a bit, he’s enjoying the fire.”

      “I can—”

      “Jenna,” Lottie admonished, her voice gentle.

      Jenna’s eyes started to roll before she caught herself. “Thanks,” she said to Hank and her grandmother smiled at her.

      Quinn jumped up, his guitar twanging on a sour note as he laid it on the ground. “I’ll walk ya to the house.”

      Jenna smiled, all teeth and promise. Hank’s lips drew down. Jenna and Quinn walked away, so close together their shoulders bumped with every other step. Then Hank glanced at Santos over the fire and tossed his head in the teens’ direction, “Why don’t you go with them?”

      “You’ll do no such thing,” Lottie said to Santos. To Hank, she said, “Leave the kids be, Hank. Give ’em a little privacy.”

      “They’re kids. They don’t need privacy.” Hank glanced at them over his shoulder as if he expected them to drop on the ground and do the nasty right there in front of God and everybody. I for one was happy to see them take a shine to each other. Even though Quinn was older than Jenna, he was definitely more age-appropriate than Hank.

      I was so confused about Hank’s and Jenna’s relationship. Sometimes Hank seemed jealous when Quinn was around Jenna. Other times, he seemed more protective of her.

      Then I reminded myself it wasn’t any of my business.

      Alby and Santos retreated to their cabin and Lottie said goodnight and headed up to bed herself. That left me, Hank, and Dink. Drained, I was ready for sleep myself.

      Dink thumped his tail at me when I stood to leave. I stepped over to him and patted his soft head. He squinted and his lips slid back in a doggy grin. When I tried to leave, Hank lightly grabbed my wrist and sat me down on the log beside him.

      “Don’t let Link get to you. It’s not personal.”

      “I’m not. Not really.” I chewed on a frustrated sigh. Plenty of people in the world didn’t like me. Usually, it was because I’d given them a reason not to. Only I didn’t think I’d given Link much of a reason.

      “Link and I aren’t very close, even though I’ve known him most of my life. Between you and me, Dale asked me to take this job to take the pressure off Link. Dale would deny that if you asked him directly. He doesn’t want Link thinking he’s lost confidence in him, but Dale has. Link lost his mother to cancer a few months ago. His wife left him soon after. From what Dale says, he hasn’t quite been as focused since then.”

      “Now you’re trying to make me feel sorry for him.”

      Ruffling his fingers through Dink’s scruff, Hank glanced up at me, his eyes soft and a faint smile on his lips. “Naw. Trying to give you a little perspective. Don’t let on I told ya, or Link’ll have me mucking stalls by myself for a week.”

      His eyes held mine, the firelight reflecting back at me. Then his focus slipped down to my lips and desire flashed. He wanted to kiss me. Then he glanced away, shaking his head and shaking me off as easily as a dog shakes water from its coat.

      I told myself it was for the best.

      Chapter 5

      The floor of the cabin vibrated as four exaggerated footsteps landed on the front porch. “Don’t shoot,” Hank called out moments before he opened the door.

      “Very funny,” I replied. “Lucky for you my hands are occupied.”

      I was sitting at the kitchen table, twisting like a pretzel and trying to doctor СКАЧАТЬ